Some Move On, But Not Us
by PsychicDynamite
Summary: Various ficlets of Earth's mightiest heroes before, during, and after Endgame. SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME INSIDE. Open to requests! Cross posted to AO3
1. Dead in the Water (Tony)

_My unhealthy way of coping after Endgame._

_Obligatory warning: S_

Tony deliriously thought back to when he was 10 years old and Jarvis had sent him to bed because he had burnt the carpet floor while fiddling with another circuit board for a project. His stomach had been painfully protesting all night, and no matter how much water he drank, or how much he just tried to go to bed, it wouldn't stop. Eventually he fell asleep, and woke up to a humongous breakfast and ate so quickly he nearly puked.

That was nothing compared to now.

He had felt Nebula lift him from his sprawled position on the floor, but he was too weak to protest. The wailing of his stomach had either quieted or he had just tuned it out long ago. The last packet of freeze dried blueberries Nebula had graciously let him chow down, allowing for some relief. But that had been days ago. Now, there was nothing. There was barely oxygen for the both of them.

He was put in a seat, an almost comforting hand on his shoulder. This could be nice. Not the most ideal way to die, but the literal void of space around him simultaneously gave him anxiety and peace. Or he was down to his wit's end due to lack of food. Either one.

Each breath was getting harder, but he willed his body to go to sleep. He didn't want to have to think of the Snap, or the possibilities of what happened back on Earth, losing Pepper, or the kid…god…

No.

He just wanted it all to stop.

Just…

Stop…

And breathe…

An external light berated his closed eyelids, as if they were banging on his front door.

A weird way to introduce the afterlife. If this was the afterlife. Lord knows that he didn't deserve to go to Heaven, if it existed. Maybe this was some weird purgatory, or just Lucifer teasing him.

The brightness wouldn't stop. No amount of ignoring it was going to help. It was actually almost painful.

He decided to weakly open his eyes, wondering what could be worse than losing everything he had.

His last thought before passing out from sheer disbelief was thinking, _holy shit…God is a woman._

_—_

Maybe God was a bit of a stretch, but anyone who could carry the Benatar back to Earth was a deity in Tony's mind.

His mind continued to swim in disbelief as Nebula helped him off the ship _and onto the ground_. If he wasn't so weak, he would have knelt down and kissed it right then.

Steve was running to him to help. He couldn't help the emotions that flooded him. Pain, anger, joy, anguish, confusion.

"I lost the kid."

He knew that Steve thought poorly of him for bringing Peter, who hadn't even graduated high school yet, into that airport in Germany. But what was he supposed to do? Plus, he's Iron Man. He would protect the kid, whatever it took.

Except he hadn't. He couldn't have.

And because of that, he had come to terms with what he thought was going to be his death. Dying alone in space seemed to be punishment that fit his crime. But life apparently disagreed.

He kinda wish he hadn't.

But he immediately took that back when Pepper appeared in front of him, mouth open in disbelief. No, he was fine with this after all. His greatest fear hadn't come true.

God what a relief that was.

With her support, he feebly walked across the lawn and into the Avengers' Complex.

_—_

Bruce immediately administered an IV drip, and had strongly advised Tony to rest, but of course he refused. He needed to know what the damage was.

But maybe he should have taken Bruce's advise.

As he sat there, hearing the rest of them talk, all he could feel was his blood boiling. Wasn't this what he was fighting for? Didn't he say these exact things? That Earth needed protection, a shield?

Enraged, he got up, willing his legs to just _goddamn work. _He stumbled to face him.

Captain America. Steve Rogers. The man that his dad never shut up about. The man that no matter how hard he tried, he could never be.

He felt his words just spilling out of his mouth, but he went with it. The barrier between his mind and his tongue was non-existent at this point.

God, after all this time, after advocating doing the right thing, look where Rogers had gotten them. Us. After all this guilt and shame, this was where they were.

He may as well have just yanked his heart out.

—

Tony awoke from his drugged sleep groggy and confused. Then he remembered collapsing in front of the team, or what was left of it.

Scoffing at himself, he checked the time. 6:28AM.

Hoisting himself off the bed, he realized that Pepper was snoozing in a chair, head leaning on the edge of the bed. For the first time in a while, he felt warmth in his heart as he stared at his fiancée. God, he had lost so much, but he was beyond grateful to have not lost Pepper.

He felt his mind ultimately wander to Peter. A sigh escaped his lips as he felt himself go numb. His tears had been spent long ago, but he felt nothing could smother the overbearing sadness.

The kid had been right in his arms. The first genuine hug between the two of them, and it was Peter desperately clinging onto Tony before just withering away to dust. His heart clenched just thinking about it.

Then, in the silence of his temporary ward without worry of food, he felt his stomach drop as a chill went down his spine.

Harley.

—

Pepper was jerked awake as the bed she was leaning on suddenly moved.

"F-FRIDAY, check…oh god, check Rose Hill, Tennessee for—"

"Tony, sweetie, what are you doing?"

"Pep, I—" the emaciated billionaire took a step back from addressing the AI and whirled his head around, freezing like a deer in headlights. Pepper could tell his mind was stretching in several different directions, between wanting to continue what he was doing to telling her to several other things.

"Tony, you have to lie down, honey."

"Pep…No, I gotta—I gotta do this."

"Do what? Dear, you need to rest, you just got back from—"

"I know, but I gotta find him." Defeat was already laced in his voice. "I've gotta…"

"Tony…who?" Pepper could only think of a number of people who Tony could be this frantic about, and none of them lived in Tennessee.

She could see he was fighting to stand up as FRIDAY was running calculations. An invisible weight bearing on his shoulders.

"Records say that no sign of Harley Keener has been detected since the incident, boss…" FRIDAY reported, sounding very desolate for an AI.

Tony let out a sharp sob as he collapsed back into bed. Pepper caught his frail form and gently held him as new found tears started to roll down his face. His whole body seemed to shake as he broke down in front of her. Pepper could feel her heart breaking as she stroked his head, trying to soothe him.

_—_

_I'm sorry_

_Open to requests_


	2. Alone (Clint)

_Thank you to DarylDixon'sLover for submitting this request!_

A refreshing Sunday breeze ruffled Clint's hair as he helped Lila knock her arrow. Ever since she snooped in the secret compartment in the garage (supposedly looking for some paints, he doesn't remember) and stumbling onto his extra bow, she badgered him nonstop about learning archery. Clint opposed at first, of course. Who the hell teaches their kid how to use a weapon? Especially as a retired spy and SHIELD agent.

But soon he had found her trying to actually use his bow (goddamn did that give him a heart attack - he had high blood pressure for the next few days after that), he agreed to make one for herself and teach her, as long as she didn't tell her brothers what she had found.

Lila was a lot of things, and trustworthy was definitely one of them. A couple months later, and not a peep about what she had found in the garage.

Clint had dug up an old target for Lila and making her a wooden recurve bow (hell if he had to learn how to shoot with a recurve bow before a compound, so was she), three to four times a week she was out shooting with him. He wasn't gonna lie, every time she hit the target, he felt pride swell in his chest. Along with some anxiety of course. But people do archery as a hobby all the time. Yeah, he'd keep telling himself that.

He was brought out of his recollection when Laura asked for mayo or mustard on their hot dogs. He mentally face palmed - for some reason Cooper suddenly acquired a burning hatred towards ketchup, and wouldn't stand to have it anywhere near him.

Lila relaxed her stance for a moment, clearly confused. "Who wants mayo on a hot dog?"

Clint sighed, "Your brother," before requesting two mustards.

Refocusing, Lila pulled up her bow to aim at the target.

Checking on her elbow, he helped straighten it and reposition her hand so the bow string wouldn't graze her cheek. He was gonna have to do something to fix that darn elbow of hers. It was gonna fly away just like the arrow in her hands.

Lila concentrated, then exhaled before shooting.

Bullseye.

Clint berated himself for grinning so widely.

"Great shot, Hawkeye," he complimented, giving her a well-deserved high-five. Lila giggled before going to retrieve the arrow.

God, he hoped what he was doing was right. The last thing he wanted was for Lila, or anyone in his family, to be involved in spy work. He'd die before he'd let that happen. Sure, it was just shooting arrows today, but what if someone from work spotted her? He wouldn't be able to bear it if that had happened.

Maybe he could convince her to try another hobby instead. Why couldn't she just play basketball, or tennis?

His mission-trained ears suddenly didn't hear any footsteps. In fact, he didn't hear anything. Clint's brow furrowed, confused. It's not like it took long to retrieve the arrow, nor did she miss the target.

"Lila?" he called, checking around the tree. Nothing but some dust in the wind.

Maintaining his breathing to stave off hyperventilating, he called out louder.

"Come on guys, this isn't funny!"

No. No way this was happening. Fury swore that no one could find them.

He called out for the boys. He called out for Laura. Glancing over at the picnic table, he saw two hot dogs with mustard, and one hot dog on the ground.

Feeling the control on his breathing slowly unraveling, he screamed louder and louder for them. Hot tears began to sting.

Was this because he had gone to Germany? He had already agreed to be on house arrest with the FBI. He hadn't broken any laws. But even if it was because of that, he would have gotten punishment. There was no reason for the government to even touch his family. What was going on?

Dozens of questions flew through his head as he checked the woods. No blood, no clothes, nothing suspicious.

Whirling around, he saw it.

Nothing.

Nothing but field, sky, and his home.

And with that, the hyperventilation started. His vision blurred, and he felt dizzy. Falling onto his knees, he felt the rest of the tears falling onto the ground.

Gasping for air like he had just been tortured, he gave himself a moment to gather himself. Tears weren't going to find out where his family went.

But he knew someone who could.

Struggling to stand, he stumbled towards the picnic table where he had left his phone. Choking out his last few sobs, he cleared his voice before dialing the emergency number that Fury had given him.

With each long dial tone, he felt as if his family was slipping further and further away. He felt idiotic as he was waiting for Fury to pick up his damn phone, instead of trying to track them down. They couldn't have gotten far. There was no back up in the air, it had been way too quiet. But there was no sign of a struggle, aside from the dropped hot dog. No tracks, no trace, no—

"Hello?" a shaky voice finally broke the monotonous dial tone.

It took him a second to process the voice that was not Fury. "I—Wha—Hill?"

"Barton?" Maria Hill confirmed, obviously in disarray.

"Yeah—wha—where's Fury? Look something happened here, Laura and the kids—"

"Oh god," the agent cut him off, dread weighing down her voice.

"What? What's happening? Who took—" Clint was ready to break his phone, he was overwhelmed with emotion. He used his other hand to steady his shaking one as he listened to Maria talk.

"Barton, look. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but…Fury…Fury's dead."

"Ok, so where is he now?" Clint knew the man had "died" multiple times. He was always taken to another location, always back on his feet sooner than later.

"No, Clint—" his mind was in disbelief when he heard her choke down a sob "He's dead. I saw him…I saw him turn to dust. In front of my eyes. Oh god…"

Mind running a hundred miles a minute, he tried to mentally process her statement as she cleared her voice from tears.

"D-dust?" he clarified, feeling his stomach starting to drop.

She sniffed. "Yeah, and not just him. Almost…almost a third to a half of the people I saw on the road here just…turned to dust."

This made no sense. Zip, zilch, zero. People don't just turn to dust. This…

"I'm gonna call Cap."

"You think he knows what's going on?" Hill asked. She probably knew he had a way to reconnect with the fugitive.

"I don't know. But this doesn't sound like any human's doing. It…It sounds like Avengers work. Or at least, something to do with them. I dunno, I'm following my gut. Hill…I'll keep you posted. I'll call you on your cell when I get answers."

There was a brief pause before she spoke. "Alright. I'm going to report back to the SHIELD HQ. Thank you, Clint."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Catch you in a bit."

"Yeah."

He numbly tapped the red button to hang up the call before running to the house to get the burner phone.

Tracking mud and dead grass in the house, he dug up the phone in a secret compartment in the nightstand by the bed. A single number was in the contacts section.

He called it. And after what seemed like hours of listening, arguing, and screaming, he learned of what happened not just on Earth, but in the entire universe.

_Fun fact, I cut my hair like Clint's in Endgame for the premiere. Unfortunately it was too short to be exactly like his, but it's still a mohawk!_

_As always, requests are open._


	3. Sacrifice (Clint)

_Thank you again to DarylDixon'sLover for submitting this request!_

Cold water jolted him awake. Clint immediately gasped for air, thinking he had been drowning, or being tortured. But he hadn't…

Ambient light filled the sky. He looked around him, confused. This didn't seem like Vormir. No ice, no snow, no mysterious mountain man...The last thing he remembered was…

Oh god.

Dread began to fill his stomach as he suddenly became aware of his right hand. As if in molasses, he slowly looked to his hand and opened it. Almost innocently, the soul stone sat in his palm, glowing a warm orange.

He choked back a sob as he remembered what had happened for it to have appeared in his hand.

It was losing Laura and the kids all over again.

The familiar, but still devastating pain flooded his chest as he numbly navigated his way back to his current time.

—

Bright lights and white suits filled his vision after leaping back through the Quantum Realm. He vaguely heard Steve say something, but overwhelming grief suddenly gripped him, and he dropped to his knees.

He was looking straight ahead, but wasn't seeing what was in front of him. What was he going to say? It was as simple as that. Nat wasn't…Nat wasn't there with him. She hadn't returned.

"Clint…where's Nat?" he heard Professor Hulk ask him for the third time.

He felt his tongue turn to lead, words escaping him. Clint could only lift his head up to sadly meet the green gaze.

After a minute, he heard voices and the shuffling of feet. Someone brought him up from his knees and gently led him outside. Everything was moving too fast for him to process, so he just let them happen.

God, Nat was gone. His best friend, partner, other half…was just gone.

Fury had been outraged when Clint had told him he didn't want to kill Natasha. It was the mission, the director had argued. She had been a global threat, and it was SHIELD's job to neutralize them. While he had understood that, Natasha had been different. There was something beyond the mask she put on as an assassin. He had believed that she could be a useful agent of SHIELD. But beyond those cold, objective words, Clint had believed that Natasha could actually be good. That she could impact the world positively.

She had objected. She had objected so many times. They had gone back and forth, verbally and physically, about what Clint had proposed. But it wasn't him that she was fighting against; it had been against herself. What Clint had suggested would be Natasha going against everything she had trained for. The chances of her actually accepting, he had realized, was slim.

But in the end, she had agreed to his offer. What began as an assassination mission ended in a complicated extraction mission out of Russia. For days on end, Natasha had insisted that he had made the wrong decision, that she would never amount to any good person. What he was doing was a waste of time.

Unaware of his surroundings, he choked back a sob. Realizing he was outside, he looked up.

Had it really been a waste of time, Natasha?

He felt more tears run down his face as he silently addressed his friend.

Lowering his head, he began to take in his surroundings. A beautiful lake spanned before him, a casual wind rustling the water here and there. Out of his periphery, he took note of Steve and Professor Hulk, and presumed Tony and Thor were behind him.

Steve took a seat next to him, gripping his shoulder, both in support and sympathy. He turned his head to the soldier, and was met with red eyes, tears running down his cheeks. Pursing his lips, he reciprocated the gesture. The heavy weight of silence seemed to rest on everyone's shoulders.

After a few minutes, he heard Thor saying to not worry, and that Nat could be brought back with the stones. Suddenly, his blood began to boil. Couldn't he see that that was impossible? Out of the people there, he, the king of Asgard, should understand.

"It can't be undone!" he shouted, silencing Thor and spooking the other three. Pain filled his heart as he continued. "It can't be undone…nothing…nothing can bring her back…" More tears escaped as he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. "It should have been me…it should have been me…"

The incongruous sound of the water flowing through the lake was a sharp contrast to all their moods. The only moment that had disturbed their silent mourning was an angry professor throwing an empty bench into the lake.

Clint wanted a funeral, they all did. But they had all the stones now, and time was of the essence. The rest of them vowed that they wouldn't let her sacrifice go to waste.

Steadily, each Avenger headed back inside the facility, until it was just Steve and Clint.

"She," he began hoarsely, tears still fresh, "she always told me that…that I'd be the one to die a hero's death…and she'd…she'd just be fodder for the greater good of SHIELD." He hollowly smirked at the irony of the situation. "But look…look at her now." He sniffed, feeling more tears coming.

_If this seemed shorter, it was because I didn't remember this scene as well as the others in Endgame...tbh I was just in shock..._


End file.
